


Part of Something

by AMidnightDreary



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Actual God Loki (Marvel), Alpha Loki (Marvel), Alpha Tony Stark, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Angst with a Happy Ending, Banter, Biting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Feels, Feral Behavior, Fights, Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Loki Gets a Hug (Marvel), Loki is Not Amused (Marvel), Lonely Tony Stark, M/M, Making Up, Mild Painplay, Mild Sexual Content, Moving In Together, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Protective Loki (Marvel), Relationship Negotiation, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Werewolf Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28168305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMidnightDreary/pseuds/AMidnightDreary
Summary: When Tony gets thrown out of his pack, there's only one person he can go to: Loki.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 28
Kudos: 398
Collections: Frostiron Holiday Exchange 2020





	Part of Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfloner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/gifts).



> Happy holidays! I hope you like it! ❤

Somebody tosses his bag over to him so that it's lying on the dirty ground by his feet and somebody else comes and gives him a jacket that isn't his, and then somebody gives him a woolen hat although they look like they would rather give him a punch in the face, and so it goes on and on and all the while Tony thinks it's odd how quickly  _ us _ can turn into  _ me and them. _

“This is bullshit,” he says, with the jacket around his shoulders and a few other things in his hands, looking straight at Steve. “Rogers, come on, you can't -”

"I'm sorry, Tony," Steve cuts him off and shit, he really  _ looks _ like he's sorry. “It's just - you're making people nervous, okay? If you sort everything out, you can come back in spring, I'm sure.”

“In spring,” Tony echoes. “Oh, great! Thanks, that's awesome. If you'd even  _ tried _ to use your stupid little Alpha braincells -”

“Tony -”

“- you'd probably have  _ realized _ that it's the middle of fucking winter and we're in the middle of the fucking mountains and staying  _ alive _ until spring when I'm  _ alone _ might become really fucking difficult!”

His voice is pretty loud there at the end, but Steve doesn't even flinch. Of course he doesn't. Around them, people stop their hustling and become awfully silent; it doesn't even take thirty seconds until they are all standing more or less behind Steve, which. Yeah. Absolutely fantastic.

At least some of them are polite enough to look uncomfortable.

“Tony,” Steve says again. “You have to understand -”

“Oh, I do! I understand alright, it’s -” He presses his lips together, shakes his head, and then he reaches down to grab his bag. “You know what, nevermind. Forget it. I'm off, have fun without me.”

He gathers up his stuff and turns around, ready to leave the clearing. He's so angry that he is on the very brink of shifting; his hands are already shaking.

“Tony -”

“Shut  _ up,  _ Rogers!”

“Be careful, okay? We'll see you in spring!”

Tony does not reply.

*

He calls for Loki the first time when he realizes that he has lost his way. That alone is not only really,  _ really _ bad, but also goddamn embarrassing. He spent every single winter in these mountains since he joined Steve’s pack, technically he knows his way around, so he shouldn’t have gotten lost in the first place.

He can just hope that Loki will show up soon. Sadly, that hope dies a few hours later, because Loki is still not there, and Tony is still lost.

“Fuck,” Tony mutters to himself and looks up.

The sun is already going down, and here he is standing ankle-deep in snow between the firs like a goddamn idiot. He needs to find a place to spend the night, he knows that; he also knows that his hope to reach the nearest city before nightfall has been pointless from the start. He’ll need at least five or six days for that. 

_ Yeah, and then what? _

Tony sighs and plows through the snow, scanning his surroundings for a place to sleep that is at least sort of dry and warm. A member of his -  _ former - _ pack gave him a tent, but it’s a small and simple one that won’t keep him warm enough. He could just shift, of course, his fur  _ would _ keep him warm, but he knows that he wouldn’t shift back anytime soon and also, what about his stuff? His clothes? He can’t travel back to the city and show up there stark naked, that’d be much too obvious.

His good nose would be an advantage though. Sure, even like this, his nose is better than the noses of most humans, but it doesn’t really help.  _ Nothing _ helps, because right now everything fucking sucks.

It’s already dark (and even colder) when he finally finds a place to rest - a niche in a formation of rocks that might just be a real cave, big enough that he has all the room he can wish for. And even better, it’s  _ dry. _

He’s tired, but he is also shuddering; his limbs are stiff and sore and his pants are wet all the way up to his thighs because of the snow. It takes a lot to make him actually freeze; weres don't get cold nearly as quickly as regular humans, but this is a little too much cold, even for him. He has to warm up somehow, so he leaves his stuff in the cave and goes to find some firewood, but even the driest pieces he brings back to the cave are not dry enough. 

“Shit. Oh, c’mon, I just want - ugh. Forget it.”

His trembling hands drop the next match, and he gives up. With an annoyed sigh, he takes off his jacket - well, jackets. He’s wearing two on top of each other, and for the first time he sniffs at the one he was given before he left the camp. Bruce. It’s Bruce’s. Tony was so fixed on Steve that he didn’t even pay attention to who gave him what, but yeah, this is Bruce’s jacket, and the hat belongs to Clint. Belonged to him, that is. It’s an old tradition to give someone who leaves a pack stuff to ease the way for them, and Tony still hates it. He already hated it when he was thrown out of his first pack. There’s something hypocritical about it.

He swallows and takes off the rest of his clothes, squeezing everything into his bag that is already so stuffed full that the seams will probably burst. His teeth are chattering when he is naked - why does it have to be so _cold?_ \- but that’s fine, it’s all fine, he just has to take a deep breath and - _yeah._ _That’s much better._

He curls up around his bag, his head on the ground. The cold doesn’t bother him much anymore; he’s aware of it, but yes, it’s fine. 

It’s all fine.

*

The first sunlight wakes him up. He lifts his head and blinks against the rays that fall through the opening of the cave, and then he stands up and shakes himself to wake up his muscles that are still stiff from sleep. He leaves his things where they are and gets out of the cave to find something to eat. 

Now, hunting in the middle of winter isn’t the easiest thing to do, but nevertheless he succeeds and shortly after his stomach isn’t growling that angrily anymore. He roams around aimlessly to figure out in which direction he needs to go later and, more importantly, in which direction  _ not _ to go, namely in the direction of his former pack.  _ Former. _ That makes him feel something raw and, yep, primal; something that’s not dissimilar to mortal fear, but he shakes that off. He’s been packless before, he can be packless again. It’ll just take some time to get used to. He just needs to -

_ What’s that? _

He stops in his tracks and sniffs the air, and at once a very familiar scent fills up his nose. He’s not far away, and Tony’s feet react instinctively; he starts running to where that scent comes from. Soon enough he collides with something that lets out a soft  _ oomph _ and topples over. They end up in the snow, Tony's front paws on the man's chest, his teeth bared.

Most people would be scared to death, but Loki does not seem to be very impressed.

“Was this really necessary?” he asks, annoyed.

Tony growls.  _ Yes. _

“You could have greeted me without -”

_ No. _

“Fine, then. Could you at least get off me?”

Tony huffs and takes his paws off Loki's chest. He starts to pace, restless, while Loki gets back on his feet and brushes off the snow on his clothes. He's wearing a coat Tony would be jealous of if he was in his human form.

Loki follows Tony's every movement with his eyes, and his irritation begins to fade. “Why don't you shift, hm?”

Tony lets out another growl; changing back into his human form is always so  _ annoying. _

“Please, darling.”

Tony rolls his eyes and shakes his fur. It takes a few seconds, but then he shifts - and immediately regrets it because  _ fuck, _ it's cold. At once, Loki frowns and comes over to him, already taking off his coat to put it around Tony's shoulders. He pulls it tightly around Tony and leaves his hands on the lapels of the coat, frowning down at Tony. 

“Better?”

“Uh. No. My toes are going to freeze off.”

Loki murmurs some words and Tony feels warmth flood his body, which is  _ amazing. _ He sighs, relieved, but now that the cold isn't a problem anymore, he remembers all of his other problems.

“Fuck, Loki,” he says, “what took you so long? I called for you like -”

“I know,” Loki interrupts, still frowning. “I have been looking for you all night. There are so many wolves in this forest that I had troubles picking up your scent. You were hunting when I found you and I didn't want to interrupt. I -”

“Okay,” Tony says, because he doesn't  _ really _ care why it took Loki so long. He's here now, that's what matters. Tony can't hold Loki's gaze, though, so he looks away and gestures around. “There's a cave somewhere in that direction, all my stuff is in there.”

“Alright. Let me see, please.”

Tony nods curtly and closes his eyes. Loki usually can't teleport to places he has never been before, but if Tony shows him enough details, Loki will manage to get them there. So Tony takes a breath and concentrates - telepathic communication has never been his strongest suit, he values the privacy of his mind too much for that. Loki is excellent at it, because he's excellent at pretty much everything, which makes it possible for Tony to call for Loki at all when they aren't together, and it also makes showing Loki pictures much easier. Although really, with Loki it's less telepathic communication and more praying.

“Ah,” Loki says. “Yes, I see. I think that's enough.”

Seconds later, the forest disappears in a swirl of colors and is replaced by the cave. The ceiling is so low that Loki has to duck his head, and as he looks around he is clearly displeased.

“You had to sleep here?” he asks, and although his tone is even, Tony can tell by the look in his lover's eyes that Loki is  _ appalled.  _

“It's fine,” he says and takes off Loki's coat to put on his own clothes. Loki's spell is already wearing off, and the cold is starting to make Tony shiver. “I've slept in worse places.”

“I should have gotten to you sooner.”

“Well, you probably wouldn't have had troubles picking up my scent if you'd shifted, too.”

Loki looks at him, his brows raised. “If I had shifted as well, we would still be running around as wolves instead of having a proper conversation.”

Tony huffs a laugh. “And what would be so bad about that?”

“I need to know what happened, exactly,” Loki says, crouching in front of the pile of wood Tony wanted to use to light a fire. Loki just needs to snap his fingers, then a fire is burning. “Come here.”

Tony willingly drops onto the ground next to Loki, who soon sits down properly as well. He puts his hand on Tony's back and lets it slip under his jacket and shirt after just a few seconds.

“Are you warm enough?” Loki asks, gently.

“Mh. Could be better.”

Loki hums and soon his hand warms up, like a living heat pack on Tony's back. His fingers stroke over Tony's skin, and the skin to skin contact makes Tony relax at least a little.

“Thanks,” he mutters. “For coming.”

“Of course, pet.” Loki leans in to kiss Tony's temple, then buries his nose in Loki's hair. He makes an irked sound; he's noticed how agitated Tony smells. “You are not injured anywhere, are you?”

“No, I'm fine.”

“There was no fight?”

“No. No, they just -”

He can't even say it. Loki says it for him.

“They cast you out.”

Tony closes his eyes for a second, trying to fight down the bitterness that's threatening to crawl up his throat. “You smell it already, don't you?”

“I doubt anyone else could pick it up,” Loki says softly, “but yes.”

Tony makes a face. There's hardly a less pathetic smell than that of a packless werewolf, but he supposes it suits him well. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Offending your nose?”

“Nonsense,” Loki says and this time, his lips touch Tony's cheek. “You couldn't offend my nose even if you tried.”

Tony has to laugh. It's brief and joyless. “Okay. Good to know.”

“Tell me what happened.”

It spills out of him more quickly and easily than Tony thought it would. He simply tells Loki everything, just like he always tells Loki everything. He starts with how rough the winter has been so far, how tense and snappish the whole pack has been in the last weeks, and how the reason why they were all so on edge became clearer and clearer until Steve finally decided that it was enough. And Tony can't blame him, really. No pack would like it if their second in command ran around reeking of a foreign Alpha. And  _ Loki's _ smell in particular - well, that they can't identify it doesn't mean it doesn't scare them shitless.

“It doesn't even wear off in winters anymore,” Tony murmurs, looking into the fire rather than at Loki. “We haven't seen each other in months, and it's still there.”

“I know,” Loki says. He doesn't sound very surprised. “I... I am sorry.”

Tony snorts and shakes his head. “It's not your fault.”

“They threw you out because you smell like me,” Loki replies. His fingertips are drawing soothing circles on Tony's back. “Of course it is my fault.”

“No,” Tony sighs. “No, it's not, it's -” He doesn't know what it is, so he takes a different route. “You know I like smelling like you. I always hated it when it… went away.”

For years now, it's been the first thing Tony does at the beginning of spring: find Loki. They never see each other in winters, usually, because Tony spends (spent) them with his pack, far away from the cities in most years. Not because he enjoys camping in the middle of ice and snow, but because it's just something his people  _ do _ \- werewolves spend their whole lives in tents and trailers, because being in the crowded cities as a were sucks for various reasons, and while humans don't pay attention when they see people camping in summer, they tend to find it a little odd when it's cold as fuck outside. There were still year-round campsites, of course, but most years they were already occupied by smaller packs, and two packs on one campground is never a good idea. So Tony is used to traveling to the middle of nowhere when fall ends, and since nobody has any real privacy in the winter camps, Tony is also used to not seeing Loki for a few months. Straying away from the pack to see Loki is much easier in summer.

Was much easier in summer. Now there's nothing he needs to stray away from anymore.

“Do you need me to kill someone for you?” Loki asks casually, pulling Tony out of his brooding. “Rogers, perhaps?”

“No,” Tony says at once, shaking his head. “No, don't you dare. They didn't do anything wrong.”

“They sent you away in the middle of winter,” Loki reminds him, his tone dry, but Tony shakes his head a second time.

“I would've done the same in Steve's position,” he says. “Your smell just - rubs them the wrong way, especially Steve.”

“Because he can't accept that you should be above him in rank.”

“No, because your smell is scary as fuck,” Tony corrects, slightly annoyed. They've had this discussion a million times before. “I mean, c'mon, you know how I reacted when we first met.”

Loki hums and finally, he smiles. “If I remember correctly, you tried to kill me.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“And failed.”

“It's not my fault you're practically unkillable.”

“No,” Loki agrees. “Indeed it isn't.”

Tony sighs and rests his head on Loki's shoulder. “I don't know what to do.”

Loki stays quiet for a moment, thinking. “You can't stay in these mountains,” he says then. “There are two other packs close by - small ones, but still. None of them will react well to a loner roaming through the area.”

“Yeah, I know. I have to return to - I don't even know. Fairbanks?” He closes his eyes. “But I can't - I can't  _ stay _ there, either.”

He'd just have to find a place, a forest or some mountains, maybe a National Park, where he can set up camp and spend the winter, far away enough from other weres. He needs to shift regularly, but apart from that, he'd need to be alone in a city, among humans and all that stench and noise and - yeah, no. Sensory overload at its finest.

“You can stay with me,” Loki says.

Tony raises his head to stare at him. “What.”

“You shouldn't be surprised,” Loki tells him, frowning slightly. “You're one of mine. Of course my home is always open to you.”

“Every werewolf is one of yours.”

“Not like you are.”

“Fine, maybe not, but you've never offered me to  _ -” _

“If I had, your pack would have noticed even sooner.” Loki stands and offers Tony a hand to help him up as well. “Come on, then. I won't allow you to spend another night in this hole.”

“I didn't say yes yet.”

Loki simply arches a brow, and after a moment Tony huffs and takes Loki's hand.

*

He's never been here before. Usually, they meet either in hotels, when Tony is close to one, or just outside somewhere; he can't count the summer nights they spent together, in the woods and under the stars. He always knew that Loki has a house somewhere, a home, but no, Tony’s never been here. And now that he stands on this porch, he knows why.

He’ll never get that smell off his skin again.

“Come,” Loki says and opens the door, holding it open for Tony. “Make yourself at home.”

Tony gives him an absent smile and walks past Loki into the house. It’s a pretty one, all dark wood and glass, and big enough to house an entire family. It’s well located, too, what with the lake and the mountains and the trees surrounding it; Tony bets that the next town is several hours, if not days away. For Loki it’s just a stone’s throw away, of course.

Inside, the smell gets even more intense. It’s the same scent that made Tony’s former packmates so nervous, and while Tony knows and likes it by now,  _ this _ makes even him tense up a bit. He stops in the living room, his bag still thrown over his shoulder, and tries to get himself together. Loki’s smell is heavy in the air, though; fire and brimstone, and a power so intense that it makes the wolf part of Tony want to roll over and show his belly. He knows how to deal with that reaction - god knows he’s shown Loki his belly often enough -, but Steve and the others? Tony remembers the fiery flashes of panic all too well, the feeling of being threatened and cornered and  _ inferior. _ Tony’s an Alpha himself, technically, or at least he could be. He has not actually  _ been _ Alpha in any pack. It’s not something he wants, all that responsibility and pressure, which is why he’s always been content being second in command. Nevertheless, he’s not an Omega or a Beta, and Loki still overshadows him easily. If Loki walked into that camp in the mountains, the pack would be his in an instant, no matter what Steve would do or say, and Loki’s smell clinging to Tony was enough to make them fear him.

Loki says he’s a god. That says something about his ego, sure, but Tony can’t think of anyone or anything that would be more deserving of the title.

“Anthony?”

Loki’s voice is a bit tight, a bit worried. Tony shakes his head and manages a faint smile. “I’m fine, it’s just - a bit much.”

“Do you want to leave?”

“No. Can I - do you have a shower?”

“Of course,” Loki says. He leaves the front door open, which Tony is thankful for, and makes his way to the staircase. “Come, take your bag. You can have the guestroom, it’s never been used before. I suppose it’s the only room here that smells clean.”

Tony follows him upstairs. It’s a weird feeling, knowing he will stay and sleep here the coming weeks; he’s never stayed in an actual  _ house _ longer than a few days. It makes him feel… uncertain. Like he’s lost his footing.

“Here, this one,” Loki says, gesturing at a door to their right. “The bathroom is right next door, I’m afraid we’ll have to share it. My bedroom is down the hall, the kitchen is downstairs. Feel free to explore everything, and help yourself if you’re hungry or thirsty.”

“Okay, uh. Thanks.” Tony opens the door to the (his) room and looks inside. It’s big and pretty, but sort of blank. It’s clear that nobody’s lived here before. He wonders why the bed is made; Loki probably used magic to prepare everything. “This is - nice.”

“You may change it if you wish.”

Tony goes to place his bag on the bed and takes off his jacket. “No, I mean it. It’s probably the nicest room I’ve ever slept in.”

“Yes, well. Like I said, make yourself at home.” Loki stays in the hallways, but his eyes are still fixed on Tony. “I’ll be downstairs in my study, should you have need of me.”

“Alright.”

Loki nods and turns to leave, and suddenly Tony can’t stand it; he’s out of the room and in the hallway within seconds. “Loki -”

Loki responds at once, and Tony’s not quite sure if Loki teleports the short distance or not, but suddenly he’s right in front of Tony again, his hands on his hips and pushing him back, finally pressing him against the wall. Loki doesn’t kiss him on the lips, but his mouth is on Tony’s jaw, below his ear and then on his neck, making Tony lift his chin and bare his throat without even thinking about it. Loki makes a satisfied noise that’s almost a growl and  _ shit, _ a bit more of that and Tony’s knees are going to buckle. He lets out a breathless laugh, fingers clinging to Loki’s clothes, and feels Loki’s lips form a smile against his skin. His teeth scrape Tony’s throat just slightly.

“I missed you,” Tony gets out, and his voice is a breathy mess but he’s smiling because  _ god, _ it's true. He missed Loki so much that it'd be easy to forget everything else and just be happy that he can touch Loki again.

“I know.” Loki kisses Tony’s neck, then he lifts his head and rests his forehead against Tony’s. “You've been praying to me."

“I just thought about you a lot.”

“Exactly.” He smiles. “I missed you, too. And I am glad that you called me.” Another noise that makes Tony’s toes curl, coming from somewhere deep in Loki’s throat. “I don’t like the thought of you being in those mountains, alone. Just that one night was more than enough.”

“I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” Loki sighs and nuzzles Tony’s cheek, breathing him in. “Still. Not having you with me for months at a time has been getting harder every year.”

“Yeah,” Tony says, quietly. “I bet. I’m sure -”

“Yes?”

“I’m sure it won’t happen again any time soon,” Tony says. It’s not what he wanted to say.

Loki doesn’t reply with words, but the pleased sound he makes is enough. He kisses Tony’s cheek and then pulls back. “You wanted to take a shower, yes? And certainly you want to go and discover the territory.”

“Yeah,” Tony agrees. “Sure.”

“I can join you if you’d like.”

“No, I - maybe another time. Tomorrow or so. I want to - have a look around on my own, first.”

“Of course,” Loki says easily. “Anything you wish.”

Tony smiles at him, and although Loki returns it, there's something odd about it.

Yes, Loki is a god. He carries fire in his veins and magic in his lungs, he can walk through the sky and spin stories that change the very way the world works. He is the first and oldest shapeshifter, and he’s an outcast, too. He has a penchant for lies and mischief and the breaking of rules, and he's - well, he's  _ everything. _

But still.

Tony _ is _ uncertain about this, and he knows that he's not the only one.

“I'll be downstairs,” Loki says, and his lips brush Tony's cheek once more before he leaves.

Tony goes to take a shower.

*

He spends the entire rest of the day and the better part of the night in the woods surrounding Loki’s house. He almost sleeps there, too, but then he remembers that he does have a house to return to, so he does just that. He left his clothes in a pile in front of the house. After getting dressed, he doesn't enter the house but sits down on the steps that lead up to the porch. 

The sky is cloudy and the night is very dark, but Tony can see everything perfectly. The edge of the forest, the still surface of the water, the mountains behind the lake. It's quiet and peaceful, and Tony wonders how long Loki has been living here. And where  _ here _ even is.

It doesn't take long until he hears steps on the porch behind him. “Anthony? Is something wrong?”

Tony doesn't look over his shoulder. “Did you think I wouldn't notice?”

“Excuse me?”

Tony snorts. “I recognize your smell even when you're an owl.”

Loki doesn't reply at first, and for a second Tony thinks that Loki will deny it. Thankfully, he doesn't try that. “Forgive me,” he says instead. “I know you said you wanted to go alone, but I needed to make sure -”

“That I won't run away?”

“That you are alright,” Loki says, and suddenly his voice is icy. “You are free to leave whenever you wish, of course.”

“And where should I go?” Tony still doesn't turn to look at Loki. “What pack would take me now that I smell this much like you? And I can take as many showers as I want, that won't go away anytime soon.”

“I thought you enjoyed smelling like me. Or have you changed your mind so quickly?”

“No,” Tony says. “No, but  _ still. _ Still. I -” He laughs and lifts his shoulders, his gaze still focused on the edge of the forest. “I lost my pack.”

And if his voice breaks a little just there, well. He knows that neither of them will ever waste a word on that.

“I know.” Loki's voice is getting softer again. He very carefully sits down next to Tony, keeping his distance. “I know how you must feel, but -”

“Oh, do you?” Tony snaps. “Do you really? You've been alone for, what, a thousand years? Shit, do you even remember what being in a pack is  _ like?  _ You -”

“Anthony,” Loki cuts him off, so sharply that the Alpha part of Tony's brain is taking a hostile stance, preparing for a fight. 

“Don't do that,” Tony says, his voice clipped. “Don't fucking shush me, or I swear to god we're going to have a cockfight right here and we  _ don't _ want that.”

Loki sighs and looks away.

They're silent until they've both calmed down. Tony can't help but remember the beginning, when they had about a dozen fights each day, trying to get a rise out of each other just to see who would win. Most of the time it was Loki, what with him being far too powerful for anyone's good. They've come a long way, Tony knows; it's a wonder that they get along as well as they do. It's a wonder they both get a kick out of that constant exchange of power that's flowing between them, that they can  _ enjoy _ it instead of turning even the smallest thing into an unpleasant fight. 

That doesn't mean it's not hard, though. They're not the first Alpha/Alpha couple out there, but it definitely isn't easier just because they're not the only one. Especially with Loki being as above _ every  _ were as he is.

“I know what it means to be cast out,” Loki says finally, completely calm again. “I know what it feels like, more than most people. Don't tell me that I don't.”

“Sorry,” Tony offers.

He doesn't know what else to say. Loki doesn't talk about this often. And there's no need to talk about it anymore, really; they had a very long and very unpleasant conversation about this at some point. The story goes like this:

Once upon a time, Loki lived with a bunch of other gods in Godland, wherever that was, exactly, and none of them liked him very much because he was a, not the trustworthiest guy around and b, they didn't like the thought of him being able to shapeshift into a pretty bird and look through their bathroom window. Then one day, he decided to prank the one person he shouldn't have pranked, after which he was exiled. Among humans, he grew bored and lonely very quickly, so he found himself a woman and gave her "the gift of shapeshifting" - his words, not Tony's. After that, the woman didn't like him that much anymore, either, so she left and went to have a relatively long and happy life. She even had kids, and Tony?

Tony just so happens to be the last living direct descendant of that bloodline. 

It's a good story, sort of. At least Tony has heard worse ones. Most of all it's a sad story. He didn't know it until Loki told him, and even though knowing the truth means getting dragged into the whole chaos that is, well,  _ Loki,  _ Tony has to admit that he prefers the chaos over wondering his entire life why he's so weird. All other weres he knows have been bitten at one point in their lives, which is why they now are what they are, and they all have the bite scars to prove it. Tony doesn't have a scar like that, because he didn't get  _ infected.  _ He just inherited this shit from his father. So, yes, he  _ is _ Loki's, more so than the others.

He didn't want that to change anything, though, at least not when they met and finally started to get along. 

And now it's changed everything.

“They told me I could come back in spring,” Tony says. He still can't bring himself to look at Loki directly, so he keeps staring forward. “If I... figure this out.”

Panic smells oddly sweet. It's the scent of animals and people who know that they are in danger, that they are being threatened, that they are losing. Usually, it's the scent that tells Tony that he's winning, but now it just makes him feel sick. 

Cornered animals have very sharp teeth. People aren't any different.

“I see,” Loki says, and the edges of his quiet voice are cold and sharp. “I assume you should be rid of my smell by spring if you leave as soon as you can.”

“Loki -”

Loki is already standing up. “There'll be a full moon in a few days, I'd advise you to wait until after that at least. Good night.”

Loki goes back into the house, and Tony sighs. He stays where he is and tells himself that he should have just kept his mouth shut, because the last thing that he wants is to hurt Loki's fucking feelings. But you know, damn it; Tony's feelings are hurt, too. He knows that Loki isn't _unhappy_ that Tony is packless now, because it might mean that they can _truly_ be together, and Tony can't help but think that Loki has just been waiting for this to happen. And that's annoying, even though Tony knows that Loki wouldn't protest if Tony found another pack to join, not that that's likely. No, Loki would smile and pretend that he does not mind it at all, and he'd be lying.

Because yes, Loki is a god. But he's also very human.

*

They kind of ignore each other after that. Loki spends his time doing…  _ something,  _ certainly; even after years Tony isn't sure what Loki does with his free time, because the answers Loki gave him range from “reading a book and having a nice cup of tea” to “seeing whether I can get Latvia to declare war on Estonia”, so. Who knows. Tony isn't sure if anybody can start wars while staying behind the locked door of their study, but with Loki, everything is possible. 

Tony explores the house as a human and the area surrounding the house as a wolf, and it doesn't take long until Loki's smell that clings to fucking everything here stops being overwhelming and starts being… comforting. Mostly because Tony's own scent is already mingling with Loki's. That doesn't solve their problems, but at least it means that Tony feels a little less like he's the intruder in another Alpha's territory and more like it's  _ their _ territory.

When he's not exploring, he's working. He discovered that he has a hand for programming when he was about twelve years old, and since then that's been how he earns his money. More money than he had ever thought he'd earn, in fact, which of course makes many things easier. Admittedly, living in a house with a power connection is a great advantage in his job, but it's not  _ necessary;  _ he's come up with some other sources of energy over the years. 

Still, wifi is nice.

What's not nice is the full moon that's already looming in the sky above the house - you can't see it yet, but Tony can  _ feel _ it coming. He's one of the few lucky ones who are experienced and stubborn enough to be able to shift whenever they want, but the full moon still takes that choice away from him. His skin is already tingling.

He spends the night before the actual full moon as a wolf, too, because he's too restless to stay inside. He tries to sleep a bit when he is back in the house, but his skin is too tight and he’s too alone and everything is uncomfortable and awful, so he goes outside again and runs a few rounds across the whole lake and after the adrenaline wears off, a wave of exhaustion hits him and his lungs burn and he feels like he’s going to throw up, but in the end he just sits on a lonely bench and looks at the lake and watches as his breath dyes the air white. 

He’s had some of his greatest ideas when he feels like this, because his brain is running non-stop into the weirdest direction without ever pausing to catch its breath, but this time he just feels lost. It’s like he never got out of that forest, as if Loki never came to find him at all.  _ Loki. _ Tony closes his eyes and takes a breath. Tony’s senses are never as heightened as they are before and during a full moon, and when he concentrates, he can hear it: the thoughtful, slow scratching of a pen on paper, accompanied by Loki’s calm breathing. It doesn’t take long until the scratching stops, and the breathing hitches and pauses for just a moment, and Tony opens his eyes.

He’s probably praying again.

He rubs his hands, blows some warm breath into the hollow between his palms. It’s cold here, too, and his fingers are turning stiff. He almost believes that Loki will answer the prayer by finally coming out of his study and joining Tony on the bench, but Loki never comes.

*

There’s nothing that sucks more than being alone during a full moon. Tony remembers it from when he was younger, this bone-chilling, gut-clenching loneliness that comes with shifting alone, running alone, howling alone. He spends the night miles away from the house, curled up under a tree.

*

The mattress sags a bit when Loki sits down on the edge of the bed, and Tony grunts. He’s too tired to open his eyes. He’s too tired to do anything, really; when he finally shifted back, he just dragged himself into the house, up the stairs and into bed, and since then he’s lying here under the covers, wishing he was asleep.

“Anthony,” Loki says, and his smell is goddamn _ everywhere _ , which. Great.

Another grunt. “Room’s not clean anymore now.”

“Anthony,” Loki repeats. “This is my bedroom.”

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

A cold hand touches his forehead and Tony flinches, surprised, but when Loki makes a soothing noise, he holds still. Loki touches Tony’s forehead with the backs of his finger. He makes a displeased noise.

“You’re burning, pet.”

Tony sighs. He keeps his eyes closed. Loki has been calling him that from the start, and by now Tony’s too fond of the nickname to insist that he’s a werewolf, not a lapdog. Loki always just smiled in response when Tony complained about that, anyway. And also Tony’s pretty sure that Loki has never meant it in a diminutive way, he’s just -

“Anthony,” Loki interrupts his thoughts. “Do you need anything?”

“S’gonna be fine in a few hours,” Tony murmurs. 

It’s just the aftermath. The first day after a full moon is never a good one; Tony’s body is coming down from a high made of adrenaline and power and primal instincts, it’ll take a while until it calms down. The feeling of loneliness bothers him more than the fever, he doesn’t think that will go away anytime soon.

“Do you mind if I stay?”

Tony shakes his head, and Loki stays. Tony buries his face in the pillow; now that he knows that it’s Loki’s room, it makes sense that the bed smells so much like him.

*

He feels much better when he wakes up, even though the bedsheets reek of fever and sweat and misery. He’s still as naked as he was when he came back to the house. Loki is sitting at the end of the bed, leaning against the low footboard, a book on his drawn up knee. Tony sits up and his brain just kind of short-circuits, because although he was alone last night he’s not alone  _ now, _ and Loki’s been sitting here for hours just to make sure that Tony is alright and what Tony said when they arrived here still  _ counts - _ he missed Loki, and he’s been missing him the last days, too, and he’s goddamn tired of all that misery.

“Anthony,” Loki says, but then Tony’s already tossed his book off the bed and grabbed two fistfuls of Loki’s shirt to pull him close, and Loki gasps quietly, the words he wanted to say dying on his tongue.

Loki’s lips are warm and soft and they open far too easily when Tony kisses him, and his breath is hot when it leaves him in a rush, and all in all it takes about two seconds until Loki melts and kisses back. His hands are already on Tony’s sides, fingers digging in so hard that his nails leave small, burning half-moons in Tony’s skin; the slight pain causes Tony to make a sound that isn’t quite human.

Loki pulls away just enough that he can look at him. His eyes are so dark that they seem almost black. “Anthony -”

“Shut up,” Tony tells him, sounding more desperate than he would like to admit. “Shut  _ up -” _

Loki does shut up, and he claims Tony’s mouth like he’s hungry for it, and from there on, it’s a rush. Tony is already tugging at Loki’s shirt, willing to tear it to pieces if he just can get it  _ off _ , and the few seconds they’re not kissing when Loki pulls the shirt over his head are wasted time. Tony has been thinking about Loki’s mouth for  _ months _ and now he’s desperate for his lips and tongue and teeth and  _ god, _ his teeth. Tony feels them on his throat when Loki pushes him back, presses him down against the mattress as if he can’t bear the thought of Tony leaving the bed, as if he wants to keep him right here. He’d probably tie Tony to the bed if he could - would definitely do that if they were patient enough to take their time, but as it is he’s too busy mouthing and biting at the patch of skin where Tony’s neck meets his shoulder. Tony is clutching at Loki’s back, pulling at his hair, and Loki seems to approve; he makes a sound that could very well be described as a growl and it’s like it travels straight down to Tony’s cock, making him buck his hips. 

He curses out loud when he feels Loki’s teeth on his chest, scraping his skin - they feel sharper than they should be, sharper than they usually look, and when Loki closes his mouth around Tony’s nipple and bites - just gentle enough to cause no actual harm - Tony almost comes right then and there. He says something again, he’s just not sure  _ what _ , exactly; probably Loki’s name. Loki growls again, low and pleased and urgent. His smell is everywhere, so intense that it makes Tony shiver and whine and just melt into the bed under Loki’s touches, giving himself over. He can tell that Loki feeds on it, on the submission and the need and the reverence; Tony can feel Loki's magic drizzling in the air around them, exceptionally pleased with what they are doing.

It's messy and artless, desperate, it's all teeth and nails and hips pressing and grinding against hips, and maybe it's not perfect but it's  _ good.  _ Tony comes first, with Loki's name on his lips, and it takes him by surprise. Loki follows just seconds later, his face buried in the crook of Tony's neck.

They catch their breaths. Loki rolls off Tony after a while - not without pressing a lingering kiss to Tony’s shoulder - and lies down on his back next to him. The smell of sex and relief is filling the air, making Tony sluggish. 

“Well,” Loki says, still slightly out of breath. “I admit that this is not how I expected this conversation to go.”

Tony grins, crookedly, and peers at the lower half of Loki's body. “Did you even open your pants?”

“No.”

At first Tony just snorts, but then he has to laugh. Loki joins in and they just lie there for a while, giggling to themselves and then falling silent before a stray thought sets them off again.  _ I did miss you,  _ Tony thinks, and then he finds himself looking at the ceiling and thinking his thoughts until those thoughts, for unknown reasons and without his permission, turn into words.

“You know,” he says, his voice rough, “you could’ve joined me.”

It takes almost a minute until Loki answers. “I didn’t think you wanted me to.”

Tony could tell him that  _ everything _ is better than being alone during a full moon, but Loki knows that. He might not be an actual werewolf like Tony is, but all issues and instincts weres have come from the same source - Loki. Or rather the spell he used all those decades ago, but well, same difference. Loki  _ knows _ how important the full moon is for weres, and how horrible it can be when there’s no pack to share it with. He probably just thought that Tony would prefer that loneliness over Loki’s company, and it’s that thought that makes Tony turn his head to the side and look at Loki.

“I never said I wanted to leave,” he says.

Loki returns his gaze unflinchingly. “You never said you wanted to stay, either.”

“I was thrown out of my pack,” Tony reminds him. “That’s nothing I can just forget, Lokes. I was with them for years, and I was  _ happy _ with them. And this is - it’s going to take some time until I’m used to it, that’s all.”

“I do not mean to put you under any pressure,” Loki says slowly, his eyes wandering back to the ceiling. “And you are free to leave whenever you wish, of course. I want this to be a home for you, not a prison.”

Tony rolls onto his side, supporting himself on his elbow, and puts his hand on Loki's chest. He's missed touching him, too. “You really want me to  _ stay _ here, don't you?”

“Yes,” Loki says simply.

“You never said.”

“I never thought it would be possible.” Loki swallows thickly. “I wish to be with you, but only if you want it as well.”

“I don't think I can be in a pack anymore,” Tony says quietly. “No Alpha would accept me.”

Loki looks at him, and there's a hint of desperation in his eyes. “You could take one over. Every Alpha would make room for you, whether they like it or not. You're one of  _ mine. _ ”

Tony knows that. He's known it his entire life, that he would win every fight if he just put his heart into it. Because, if you made a list of the entire hierarchy of weres, Loki would be the first name on that list, and Tony's name would be right under it.

“I don't want that,” Tony sighs. “I've never wanted it.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I want -” Tony stops and then shifts closer to kiss Loki's jaw, his cheek, and breathe in the scent of his skin. “I want to be part of something. I don't want to be alone. I want  _ you. _ ”

“You have me,” Loki murmurs, fingers trailing over Tony's back. “Always. And I… I am not fully against a pack of our own, although I doubt that anyone would manage to overcome their fear of me.”

“I managed.”

“Yes, but you have the self-preservation instincts of a teaspoon.”

Tony can't argue against that, so he just laughs. Loki responds with a smile, and Tony notes that that sweet scent of panic is almost completely gone.

“Until then,” Tony says, grinning, “who says a pack can't be two people?”

“Indeed,” Loki agrees, and then he wraps his arms around Tony, pulling him close. “I'd be honored to be your packmate.”

“Yeah, but don't think you'll  _ always _ be in charge.”

“I wouldn't dream of it.”

And just like that,  _ the house  _ turns into  _ home. _

*

When the next full moon comes around, Tony isn't alone. A black wolf is running right beside him, and they don't shift back for quite some time, even when the moon turns first pale and then invisible. They spend the next full moon together, too, and the one after that and the one after that, and suddenly it's spring and then summer and the night is short and warm. 

They are chasing each other through the woods and Tony shifts while he is still running, it sends him stumbling and laughing; he all but crashes into the nearest tree. Loki is right behind him, the grip of his hands tight on Tony's hips and his mouth hot on the skin behind Tony's ear. He's out of breath.

“I want you right here,” he murmurs, low and urgent. “I want to keep you.” He closes his lips over the bite mark he left on Tony's shoulder weeks ago. “And I want to hurt you.”

The last words are said quietly, promisingly, and Tony feels so giddy that he has to laugh. He knows that later, they will return home, maybe they will jump into the lake to wash up, and then they will go and cuddle and sleep the full moon off, and it will be lovely. For now, though -

“Yeah,” Tony says, breathless himself. “Yes.”

Loki presses his smile against Tony's skin. It's a good night. 


End file.
